It’s been a few months since I last wrote on my public journal but in truth it’s been a while since I wrote consistently in any of my journals.
It took the loss of joyful moments of being surrounded by love and being filled with love for my son and my wife that I finally realized that..
I am not my trauma.
I am not my addiction.
I am not my anxiety.
I am not my anger.
I am not my fears.
I am not what they say i am.
I am not my demons.
I am not trapped in loops of my own making.
The weird part is that I’ve mostly been happy.
being fully present. being a father. being a friend.
i wrote to myself just a few weeks back that these were the days I’d be wishing I could relive at 80.
I’d give anything to be with my 8 month old son as he laughs and engages with the world when I’m 80 so why not give everything now?
I wouldn’t miss a moment for the world.
and yet there are fleeting moments where the demons take over.
my trauma plays on loop and I become trapped in suffering of my own making.
i trap myself in castles made out of sand.
of fiction and reality.
and i’ve found my words out of my maze and my loops.
beyond meditation. a simple mantra.
I am not my trauma. I am not my addiction.
I am not my distractions. I am not what I consume.
I am my art. I am what I create.
I am what I say. I am what I do.
I am the love that Dianne feels.
I am the love that Damien feels.
I am the love that my friends feel.
I am the love that forgives the bullies.
I am the love that understands the haters.
I am the love that has compassion for the crabs.
I am the love that protects my siblings. I am the love that forgives my parents.
I am the love that tries again